His World
by Copper's Mama
Summary: Guerrero-centric fic, takes place at end of season 2 finale. Guerrero's son is his whole world ... no doubt. Please read and review.


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_Guerrero-centric fic. _

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_Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Human Target. _

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_A/N: Well, after the season finale, and the various "aww"s that I made, I had to write some fics about it. This will hopefully be the first of many more. _

_This fic takes place at the end of the episode, explaining why Guerrero wasn't there to say farewell to Ilsa. _

_I hope you guys like this one, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

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His body was still shaking, all these hours later. To the common stranger, it would seem as though he was merely lost in thought; they might even see an occasional quiver. But they didn't know Guerrero. They didn't know the effort it took just to keep his foot pressed down on the gas pedal evenly, or how his hands weren't usually so pale from the sheer force he was gripping the steering wheel with. They didn't know him well enough to know that his eyes weren't always so hard and focused, or that his body was rarely so taut and tense - straight as a board.

Guerrero drove down the familiar roads, making his way in silence to a place he didn't visit nearly as often as he now believed he should. He couldn't stay away, not tonight ... not after what the C.I.A. had threatened.

He didn't feel a smidge of remorse for what he'd done to that agent - or rather, what he'd made the agent do to himself. The piece of scum deserved it, and much, much more. If Guerrero could kill him a thousand times, he would. And he would enjoy it.

His jaw clenched at the man's cavalier choice of words when regarding his son: _pressure point_. It was more true than Guerrero would care to admit. His son was his 'pressure point', he was his weakness. He would do anything for him; kill for him, die for him ... he would walk away from 'the life' for him, if the boy ever asked him to. He was worth it. Guerrero would protect his friends and coworkers to the death, if he had to. Chance was probably the best friend he'd ever had, and would do the same for him. Winston - even though he loved bugging and tormenting the larger man - was still more important to him than he'd care to say. Ilsa and Ames were too new to be friends, but more than acquaintances, and he would still take a bullet for them ... or at least push them out of the way. Still, none of them held the place in his heart that his son did. It was impossible.

Guerrero angled the rental car onto the familiar, suburban street, finally pulling up in front of the house. He took the key out of the ignition, glanced about the neighborhood, and then stilled. He had to get himself under control before he went in there ... he wouldn't let his son see him like this.

It took a couple minutes, and lots of deep breathing, but he finally relaxed his worried body enough to exit the car. His footsteps sounded hollow to his ears as he made his way up the front sidewalk, and up the steps to the door. He shook the tingles out of his hands before raising his right fist to knock on the door.

It was a full thirty seconds before the door opened, and then Elizabeth was standing before him. "... Hi," she stated, surprised to see him. It was still a couple weeks before he would usually be making his visit.

"Can I see him?" his voice wasn't as even and calm as he would have liked, and was forced to clear it.

Elizabeth picked up on his stress, nodding her head silently. She opened the door wider, allowing him entrance into the house before closing it behind him. "Matthew, your father's here," she called, turning her head towards the basement playroom.

Guerrero nodded his thanks, walking into the living room. He could hear the excited patter of feet as his soon ran up the stairs from the basement.

Matty's face came into view, a wide grin on his face. "Daddy!" he shouted out, tearing across the room and jumping on the older man.

Guerrero held the boy in his arms, inhaling his scent greedily and tightening him embrace, careful not to squeeze too hard. "Hey, buddy."

"I missed you!" Matty told him, bouncing slightly.

Guerrero nodded into his small shoulder, grateful that he was still alive to hold his son. He hadn't lied when he'd been locking that agent into his beloved El Do ... he was his whole world.

No one and nothing was going to take him away.

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_The end. _

_Short, but hopefully good. _

_What did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


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